Materials for YWCA song

If you’re ever down on Elm Street in Toronto you may have noticed a handsome new building for the YWCA.  (It’s just down the street from the Arts and Letters Club where Healey Willan was an active member, and just steps from the spectacular Elmwood Spa.)  The historic Edwardian building has been converted and renovated to create a wonderful living space with about 300 units for women who really need affordable, safe housing. You can read all about the green building project and how women can apply to live in this new facility at the YWCA website:

http://www.ywcatoronto.org/page.asp?pid=76

Also an interesting article from 2009 outlines the struggles that the Y experienced getting funding for the project, and how generous individuals came forward to make the dream of affordable housing for women a reality:

http://www.thestar.com/news/gta/article/698503

What has this to do with me you may ask? Soon the new building will be officially opened by the YWCA board and government officials. The Y wants to celebrate this happy event with a piece of music, so they commissioned me to write something. I thought it would be cool if the residents themselves were involved in creating the new piece, so with the help of YWCA staff, we had a workshop on Saturday afternoon. Residents of the new facility gathered in the auditorium to meet me and participate in creating a new work. I didn’t really know what to expect, and I imagine the residents were just as apprehensive as I was, not really knowing what would happen. We introduced ourselves and sang some campfire songs, and the women shared their experiences and how they felt about their new home. I was, frankly, amazed and moved by their poetic outlook, and how freely and openly they shared their stories, both good and bad. I jotted down the key words and phrases of our conversation. I took a long walk, wrote down some ideas on manuscript paper (I always keep a notebook in my purse!) slept on the idea, went to church, and then came home to finish the job. I worked up our material into a 4 -line text which I then set to music. The next step will be to try out the new song with the Y residents to see if it works. Then, we’ll await the announcement of the date of the official opening ceremonies, and get to work on making the piece work in a live performance.

This is a unique and exciting project and I’m grateful to the women at the Y who are collaborating with me. I think it’s going to be good  ;  )

Sunday: sing, play and conduct for two Sunday morning masses at St. Mary Magdalene’s including amazing 8-part motet by Orlando di Lasso; rehearse Gregorian chant with our new group “Lady Chant”

Monday: prepare this week’s history lecture; rehearse Pax Christi Chorale in Elgar’s monster oratorio, “The Kingdom”

Tuesday: lecture on Schubert, Schumann and Chopin; host Trinidadian steel pan drum ensemble; rehearse Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas with York baroque orchestra

Wednesday: teach harpsichord and organ students; rehearse 13th century Notre Dame organum with Schola Magdalena

Thursday: production meeting for Dido; celebrate Candlemas at St. Mary Magdalene’s; impromptu renaissance jam session singing through most of the Tudor Anthem Book with diehards of the Gallery Choir

Friday: rehearse chorus for Dido; attend amazing Sound Streams concert “The Sealed Angel” at Koerner Hall

Saturday: meeting to plan a new Canadian Anglican hymn book; workshop with residents of the Elm Street YWCA to create a new composition to celebrate the opening of the new building

This is normal, right?

Cat likes Willan Missa Brevis 4

I’m thinking of the Windermere String Quartet as they prepare to play the premiere of my piece tonight. If they are like me, they are avoiding going out into the snow that continues to fall on Toronto this afternoon. Maybe like me they are practicing, and have persistent pets like my cat (pictured here, with her permission) who expresses her opinion of music by sitting on it. My cat apparently approves of Willan Missa Brevis #4.

The string quartet we will hear tonight is called “From a distant Island.” I wrote most of the quartet while on sabbatical on the Isle of Wight. For two weeks I lived in a convent with cloistered nuns who were not allowed to speak to me. It was the perfect environment for creative work. It seemed that whenever I got bogged down with composing, the chapel bell would ring and summon me to one of the daily offices sung impeccably to Gregorian chant by the Sisters at Saint Cecilia’s Abbey. Then I could return to work refreshed and inspired. Some of that chant rubs off on the quartet – there is a reference to the Dies Irae which I heard sung for All Souls day.

Tonight I finally get to hear that music. It’s part of Pax Christi Chorale’s 25th Anniversary gala fundraiser. We’ll hear the quartet in a very modern environment – the 24th floor of Fasken-Martineau at the Bay Adelaide centre in the heart of downtown Toronto. I’m hoping my musical descriptions of the English countryside go down well in this extremely urban environment. Beyond that I’m looking forward to seeing friends and family, and celebrating the choir’s success over the last quarter century.

Music in motion

The last carols have been sung, dollar store treasures unwrapped and devoured, remnants of Christmas feasts boiled up for soup, midnight masses faded, snow finally falls on our city and there is a fleeting moment to stop and take stock. Deep and even gratitude for friends and family adorns my silent night, and my heart nearly bursts with the profound joy that all this music brings.

I am grateful for the wonderful people that surround me, the prodigious and varied gifts that they share willingly and without question, and for everyone who willingly receives these handcrafted blessings.

I’ve spent a brilliantly varied three days with family and friends and strangers, drawn together from across the continent to celebrate this season, to eat, drink, sing and share stories from our common past. I’m freshly amazed at the technology that connects me to people far away – even those who I’ve never met. Today I chatted with a stranger -a French Canadian woman teaching music to Inuit children in Labrador whose Christmas experience was likely very different than my own. The miracle of Facebook provided me with a double bass player for my Children’s Messiah, reconnected me with a wonderful old friend, and allowed me to enjoy pictures of dear ones far away. And now I’m telling you about all this in a blog!

These little things are obviously not quite as profound as a star over Bethlehem, wise men from the east, or the birth of a Saviour, but I still stand in in awe at the wonder of all this, and give thanks.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Saint Nicolas Dec. 2011

Benjamin Britten writes in his introductory notes to Saint Nicolas: “The conductor must be cool-headed and should turn to the audience to conduct them in the two hymns.” I needed that sound advice on Sunday afternoon as we began our Pax Christi concert, only to discover the organ at Grace Church on-the-Hill would not  start up. The first half of the concert could be sung largely without the organ, but the prospect of performing a half-hearted St. Nicolas without the “King of Instruments” was a dreadful disappointment to both choir and audience. But apparently miracles still happen. Why was Tom Fitches in the audience that afternoon? One of the only men in the city who could solve our crisis came forward, and with the help of some probing minds, tools and hands managed to get the organ working. A triumphant chord from Simon, and audience and musicians let out a great cheer. What followed was a performance I will never forget. It was as if we had smashed that dreadful imagined wall that separates listeners and performers. We re-created something wonderful that old Ben Britten would have reveled in.

One of my singers put it far better than I ever could:

“Yesterday’s concert will stand out as a long-time high watermark.  It’s not so much the drama of the organ failure as the music making in the midst of challenge.  While it was heartening to see engineers and organists come out of the woodwork and work together – it was the conductors’ and choirs’ responses which moved me to tears.  It’s as if for a few moments we were one body breathing together, one will willing together, one voice singing together.  I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that degree of ensemble before – it could sustain me the rest of my days, and it’s got me wanting more.

I’m so grateful for poetry’s many gifts!  Cori’s poem in particular has given me a new place to stand as I look ahead to celebrating Christmas.  Now I have new ‘friends’ in my imagination – images of hopeful children tipping across the dark barnyard, embodying their faith in their brave excursion, looking to see the cattle, and brave enough to observe.”

Thanks to everyone, and happy Saint Nicolas Day.

St. Mary Magdalene Gallery Choir 1967

I want to post a brief tribute here to my friend Patricia Harton-McCord, a wonderful person and marvelous musician. She’s pictured here at choir practice with the Gallery Choir under the direction of Healey Willan in 1967. She’s the young singer in the second row, fourth from the right. She often recounted stories about those days and how Dr. Willan had been so generous with his time, mentoring and nurturing her obvious musical talents.

I first met Patricia as a student at U of Toronto and got to know her again as a colleague at the University of Guelph where she taught voice. We were so fortunate that she recently returned to St. Mary Magdelene’s with her family. The SMM church community meant a great deal to her, and I’m so glad we had that time together, however short.

Though Patricia had been in hospital for many weeks and in considerable discomfort, her outlook was amazingly positive and selfless. Her concern was always for others, and she inquired after everyone else and how they were doing. We lost a dear friend last night and she will be missed by all of us. We hope to sing a fitting Requiem for her on Saturday.

St. Nicolas

Our eyes are blinded by the holiness you bear. The bishop’s robe, the mitre and the cross of gold obscure the simple man within the Saint. Strip off your glory, Nicolas, and speak!

“Across the tremendous bridge of sixteen hundred years I come to stand in worship with you as I stood among my faithful congregation long ago. All who knelt beside me then are gone. Their name is dust, their tombs are grass and clay, yet still their shining seed of faith survives in you! With you it stands like forest oak or withers with the grasses underfoot. Preserve the living faith for which your fathers fought! For faith was won by centuries of sacrifice, and many martyrs died that you might worship God.”

Help us Lord to find the hidden road that leads from love to greater love, from faith to greater faith. Strengthen us O Lord! Screw up our strength to serve Thee with simplicity.

Eric Crozier (1914-1994)

Could it be true, old Thomas Hardy’s tale:

at midnight, Christmas Eve, the oxen kneel

to Bethlehem? Our parents slept. We kept

a vigil till the magic hour, then crept

outside, across the glittering, frozen snow

to see this vision promised long ago.

And, Lo! Behold! There were the cattle in

the moonlit barn, a huddled congregation

mangered, softly lowing like singers choired

in their stalls. Yet, I feel some cattle shared

the doubts then sprouting in my childish thought.

For some were kneeling there. And some were not.

Come hear us sing it December 3rd and 4th in Toronto: www.paxchristichorale.org

My question on this blog is to singers, orchestra players and audience. I found last night on arriving at the venue that we didn’t have a  lot of extra room, and the soloists ended up right in front of me. I decided not to use my stick since there really was no room to wave it. There’s a romance about the stick, or the conducting baton. It gives conductors something to carry like their friends in the orchestra, or perhaps it represents some kind of control, or maybe it’s just more clear than using bare hands, but does it enhance the performance?

My question for the performers is – what do you prefer? You can compare last night’s experience with this afternoon when we sing the piece again in Toronto.

Please leave your comments!

Our launch Saturday night (7:30 at the Church of St. Mary Magadalene, Toronto) promises to be a wonderful get-together of friends new and old. Ben Grossman joins us to play hurdy-gurdy. Admission is free and we have a very nice party planned for afterwards!

Schola Magdalena